


Pencils

by Dushenka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Love at First Sight, Magizoology, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dushenka/pseuds/Dushenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna and Rolf meet for the first time and have a peculiar discussion about Magizoology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pencils

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reinedutemps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reinedutemps/gifts).
  * Translation into Italiano available: [Matite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616626) by [Dushenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dushenka/pseuds/Dushenka)
  * A translation of [Matite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616626) by [Dushenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dushenka/pseuds/Dushenka). 



> “To Lisolachenoncè,  
> because I know she'll always be there for me,  
> and because she exists.”  
> And to Reinedutemps, who believes in me and incited me to translate this old story.
> 
> Original work in Italian: http://efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=871882

__

Luna took the pencil from behind her ear and replaced it with her wand.

She observed that unusual object between her fingers for a minute or so. Writing with it felt weird: unlike the quills she was used to, it was small and firm. It left grey, erasable lines, and that freed her from the nuisance of using ink: every time she made a mistake, she had to hide it with a curlicue or a doodle, and the inkpots often opened inside her schoolbag, staining all the books. But it wasn't her fault if those caps were so difficult to seal, and skipping was much funnier than just walking.

She took a piece of parchment out of her bag and kept fiddling with the pencil. She mentally reminded herself to send Hermione an owl, in order to thank her for this Muggle discovery, although she knew she would have probably forgotten by the time she went back home.

She found the right grip – a bit different from the familiar one she used for quills, – closed her eyes and tried to draw the animal she was thinking of.

When she finished with a curlicue and opened her eyes, she had to admit that the result was rather peculiar: her drawing had two hare ears and the beak of a toucan, strong feline anterior paws and thin, bow-legged, posterior ones with hoofs. To crown the whole thing, two plumed wings and a zebra tail.

She proudly congratulated herself and gave a name to her creature: _Rhinoceros_.

This was one of her favourite pastimes: she closed her eyes and drew whatever passed through her mind, and then she named the drawing with one or two words that sounded particularly interesting at the moment. It didn't matter whether said words already had a meaning. The works she was mostly proud of were “Bedside Table”, “Toe”, “Wrackspurt Salad” and “Mimbulus Mimbletonia”.

 

-

 

While he was walking through the forest looking for Augurey nests, the young man spotted a blonde head of hair next to a bush. _A thorn bush_ , he recognised.

He moved forward, stepping on some mulches, but the girl didn't turn nor she gave any sign of being conscious of his presence at all. He looked at her closely: she was sitting on the ground, cross-legged, careless of a ladybug climbing on her green dress. She was drawing with that Muggle thingie – how was it called? It started with P... - and, quite weirdly from his point of view, she was drawing with her eyes closed.

They weren't shut, like when one is trying to remember something or when sunlight shines directly on them; the eyelids were closed gently, as if she was sleeping, hiding a pair of eyes that perhaps seemed a bit too big. Every now and then, a quiver in her eyelashes suggested an idea, a new image passing inside those lids.

Suddenly, the boy realised what he was doing and blushed violently.

Somehow, he managed to speak.

“You shouldn't be there.”

The girl didn't stop drawing nor she opened her eyes.

She only said:

“Why?”

Silence.

“I think you shouldn't stand stock-still like that, then”, she added.

He gasped. How could she know how _he was standing stock-still like that_ , if her eyes were closed?

“I... um... that's a...”

“Do you have Wrackspurts in your brain?”

“Spurts _what_?”

“You sound like you have some Wrackspurts wandering inside your head.”

Wrackspurts? How could he never have heard about them from his father?

“Um, I don't think those wrack...things you're talking about exist.”

“Oh, everyone reacts like that, at the beginning. But you can't deny the evidence, it's the same as Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, or Nargles. You wouldn't believe it, but when I was at school they even doubted about Gurdyroot properties!

The boy opened his eyes wide. Then, he remembered he could actually talk.

"You shouldn't be sitting there, it's dangerous. You know, Augureys usually nest in thorns, and their cry can be harmful. You shouldn't stay next to a thorn bush when it's about to rain, because they sing at the approach of rain-"

"Nonsense. Daddy always says that Augureys are very sociable and their cry can heal corns and colds."

The boy tried to hide a laugh. Her father's ideas must have been a bit confused in terms of Magizoology.

It started to drizzle, and they heard the sound of a thunder coming from the other side of the forest.

The girl stood up, gathered her sheets and scribbled something on the last one.

"I'll help you", said the boy, cursing himself half a second later when he realised how inappropriate that sounded in such a context.

"You're very kind." For the first time, she looked at him. Her big, grey eyes seemed to be smiling more than her lips.

"What's that?" he asked, looking at one of the drawings. " _Thestral_? Does it actually look like that?". The piece of parchment showed the weirdest fish he had ever seen.

"No, but I liked the word, so I called it _Thestral fish_."

"Does a Thestral fish even exist?"

"It doesn't."

Silence.

"Do you actually know what a Thestral looks like?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever seen one?"

"Yes."

"I mean for real, not in books or..."

"Yes."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Could you draw one for me?"

"A whole one?"

"If you can."

"Of course I can, but it would be funnier if it was half-Thestral, half-unicorn."

"Oh. I needed a whole one."

"Well, that's a shame."

Silence.

"For Merlin's pants, I'm so sorry, I'm being rude. I didn't even ask for your name."

"Luna Lovegood. And you are?"

"Rolf Scamander."

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
